


Under My Thumb

by A_Diamond



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2016 [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Dom/sub Undertones, Edging, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Orgasm Delay/Denial, probably blasphemous, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 00:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8347984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Diamond/pseuds/A_Diamond
Summary: This time, when Cas rubs the head of Dean’s penis lightly with his thumb, the noise Dean makes is soft. Somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, it slips helplessly from his throat into the heady, sex-scented air of the room. Dean just lets it go, undemanding, unashamed; beautifully accepting.





	

**Author's Note:**

> SPN Kink Bingo square: Edging. Masterpost [here](http://alxdiamond.tumblr.com/kink).

This time, when Cas rubs the head of Dean’s penis lightly with his thumb, the noise Dean makes is soft. Somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, it slips helplessly from his throat into the heady, sex-scented air of the room. Dean just lets it go, undemanding, unashamed; beautifully accepting.

When this first started, hours ago now, it started loudly. Dean was angry. Defiant. _Disrespectful_. He yelled, challenged Castiel, and by extension challenged Heaven, and failed to heed Castiel’s warnings that there would be consequences. He continued, so Castiel brought him here.

It’s a small room, roughly equivalent to the motels Dean frequents but without the grime and organic stains. It’s a room that didn’t exist before Castiel needed it, but he thinks he’ll keep it for the future. Dean is headstrong and likely to need more lessons. Castiel could recreate the room, but it’s simpler to just allow it to remain. It would also lose a certain... sentimentality might be the correct word. Memory recall, at the least.

If ( _when_ , Castiel is quite certain of that) they have to return here, he doesn’t want a single detail out of place. He wants Dean to see the sheets still rumpled where his hands now clutch and twist in the fabric—though they’ll have to relax before Castiel allows this to end. He wants Dean to smell himself in the still air, his cloying pre-ejaculate so prolific by now that the scent of it clings to the drapes and drifts into the corners.

Sense memory has a powerful effect on the human mind, and Castiel wants Dean immersed in it.

Dean is close to orgasm again, his fists gripped in the sheets and his head thrown back, rocking side to side against the mattress. He’s trying, Castiel knows, trying desperately to relax and submit, but that he has to exert the effort means he’s not ready. So Castiel takes his hand away. Dean whines briefly, but for the first time since they started this, he doesn’t move at all.

Initially there was anger, then threats, then insults. When none of those achieved what Dean desired, they broke down and gave way to apologies and bargains. Later still came begging, pleading. Progress. Slow and achingly wrought, but progress nonetheless. And it brought them to this moment, when Dean melts into the bed, relaxing even his desperately clenching hands, and waits for whatever Castiel wants to give him.

Dean’s soul shines, open and ready, and it’s one of the most beautiful sights Castiel—who has marched through galaxies and studied all the wonders of his Father’s creation—has ever seen. He’s long since relaxed his grace’s hold on Dean, but now he can’t resist reaching out to touch the core of him even as his hand closes around Dean’s penis again. A shiver of pleasure sparks through Dean’s soul, but his only physical reaction is a twitch of the organ in question and a heavy exhale of breath.

Dean stays relaxed as Castiel runs the ring of his fingers up and down his shaft and over the slick, sensitive glans, though Castiel can feel the buzz of electricity building inside him. The sound of the room is obscene, nothing but the wet slide of flesh and Dean’s shaky breathing. It echoes off the walls and reverberates in Dean’s chest.

Before long, he starts to sob each time Castiel twists at the crest of a stroke. Just a tiny hiccup of a cry dragging out with every breath. Dean doesn’t even think to stifle himself anymore, accepting whatever comes at Castiel’s hand. Even when he’s mere seconds from orgasm, he doesn’t tense or flinch. He doesn’t try to hold himself off, because he understands now that if Castiel wants him to climax, he’ll climax. If not, he won’t. He’s learned to surrender his pleasure to a higher power.

Castiel has taught him faith.

He keeps Dean on the brink for a few minutes longer, pulling his hand away only at the very last second, and only until the worst of the urgency fades. Dean’s crying in earnest, so overwhelmed by the pleasure that he’s no longer even thinking of his need to orgasm. The ecstasy of Castiel’s touch is enough.

He’s earned his reward. Castiel grips Dean just under the head of his penis and rubs relentless circles over the glans with his thumb; Dean is particularly sensitive there. All it takes is one last swipe over Dean’s urethral opening, some slight pressure applied at the top of the slit, and Dean groans as ejaculate pulses out of him. It goes on and on, and Dean doesn’t stop shaking even after he’s emptied himself all over his own stomach and chest and thighs.

Castiel watches Dean’s eyes struggle open, dazed and wet with tears, and he begins to ponder their next lesson.

**Author's Note:**

> On a creepy-misogynistic-rock-song scale that includes "Every Breath You Take" and "Run for Your Life," "Under My Thumb" ranks in at _pretty fucking problematic_. But it worked so well for this.


End file.
